


Night Sounds

by galerian_ash



Category: Jurassic Park III
Genre: Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4582692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galerian_ash/pseuds/galerian_ash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy had loved the nights on the dig site. Had loved the tranquility, with nothing breaking the silence except the soft sounds drifting in through the open window of the trailer. The wind, blowing over the rock, and the gentle lapping of the water. Alan, sleeping in the other bunk, close enough that Billy could hear him breathing.</p><p>None of those sounds filled the night in town. Cars, noisy people on the street, music from the neighboring rooms... Billy hated all of it. Hated it, and missed the dig all the more for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Sounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SadieFlood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadieFlood/gifts).



Billy had loved the nights on the dig site. Had loved the tranquility, with nothing breaking the silence except the soft sounds drifting in through the open window of the trailer. The wind, blowing over the rock, and the gentle lapping of the water. Alan, sleeping in the other bunk, close enough that Billy could hear him breathing.

None of those sounds filled the night in town. Cars, noisy people on the street, music from the neighboring rooms... Billy hated all of it. Hated it, and missed the dig all the more for it.

But it wasn't like he didn't understand why Alan had suggested he stay there. He was out of the hospital, sure, but far from his old self. It'd take a while before he could lug around equipment or get down on all fours to work on a set of bones, and until that happened he had no right to take up a spot. Sleeping arrangements were a mess as it was, with most of the students having to stay in tents. He should be grateful that Alan let him stick around during the day — and he _was_ ; he was desperately grateful that Alan had been willing to give him a second chance, despite everything that had happened.

Still, he missed it. Especially now, in the middle of the night, exhausted but unable to sleep. Worst of all, it seemed that the longer it took for him to finally doze off, the greater was the chance of nightmares. Stupid, really — a grown man being afraid of dreams — but it made everything feel so hopeless, somehow. Wanting to sleep, yet fearing it at the same time.

Not for the first time, he wondered if things would've been different with Alan nearby. If the steady rhythm of his breathing would've helped lull Billy to sleep, and kept the dreams at bay.

He probably wouldn't ever get to find out.

Taking a deep breath, Billy walked over to the couch and sat down. He turned on the TV, zapping through the channels until he stumbled over a Hitchcock marathon. He watched the last twenty minutes of 'North By Northwest', feeling himself beginning to relax. By the time the train entered the tunnel his eyelids were starting to grow heavy — not enough to go back to bed just yet, but it was a promising start.

The next movie began. It was 'The Birds'. And oh, Billy knew better than to watch; could feel it in the creeping horror stealing in on him from the dark shadows of the room. But he needed to get better, needed to get over it. He couldn't let it rule his life, dammit.

So he forced himself to watch it, the whole thing, willfully ignoring the fact that he was pretty much falling to pieces.

The TV was turned off, but he had no recollection of doing it. He was just barely aware of reaching for the phone and dialing Alan's number.

Alan answered with a drowsy "Hello?" — which made sense, of course, since it was the middle of the night.

"Sorry," he managed to force out, teeth clattering even though he wasn't cold at all. In fact, he was drenched in sweat.

"Billy?"

"Yeah, I... I'm sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

"What's wrong?"

A mirthless laughter worked its way up Billy's throat, because what the hell was he supposed to say? 'I watched some dumb movie and now I'm scared shitless'? Way to be pathetic, Brennan. As if Alan didn't have a low enough opinion of him already, honestly.

"Give me ten minutes."

He wanted to tell Alan not to bother, but he couldn't get the words out. He settled for simply hanging up the phone, and covering his face in his trembling hands. Alan would call back in ten minutes — probably wanting to properly wake up before having to deal with Billy's shit — and he needed to get himself together before then.

Billy tried to focus on breathing, but that just reminded him of the cold river, and the way the Pteranodons had ripped into him every time he'd managed to come up for air. As desperate as he'd been to live, to get a chance to make up for what he'd done, at the time he'd wanted nothing more than for it to just be _over_.

At the back of his mind there was a vague sense of disappointment that Alan had blown him off — promise of calling back notwithstanding. It... hurt. And that was just dumb; he should be _happy_ that Alan was even willing to give him the time of day.

He wasn't sure how long he sat on the floor, shaking, wishing the phone would ring already, when there was a knock on the door. He got to his feet, a bit unsteady, but succeeded in walking to the door and opening it.

Alan stood outside, hair sleep-rumpled and plaid shirt buttoned wrong.

"Alan?" Billy said, like an idiot. "What are you doing here?"

The frown on Alan's face deepened. "You called me," he replied, speaking slowly. "Remember?" It sounded like he was genuinely concerned that Billy actually _couldn't_ remember; that he'd somehow slipped back into the confused, concussed state he'd been in the first couple of days out of Isla Sorna. Back when he'd woken up screaming himself hoarse, unsure of where he was, and not able to calm down until Alan's presence gave him the wordless reassurance he so badly needed.

"I know I called you, but..."

"What, you didn't think I'd show? I told you I was coming, and I meant it." There was a sadness in Alan's eyes, as if he was hurt that Billy would think otherwise.

"No, I — I didn't realize that was what you meant. I thought you were gonna call me back, that's all."

"Oh." He hesitated for a moment, then, "Would you rather I leave?"

"No!" Billy swallowed, dropping his gaze in embarrassment over the instant outburst. "Stay. _Please._ "

Alan walked into the room, gently closing the door behind him.

He expected Alan to ask what was going on, feeling a bit queasy at the notion. He didn't want to lie — but talking about it wasn't something he thought he could handle at the moment. But Alan was quiet, not saying a word as he walked across the room to the couch.

"Want to sit down?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," Billy muttered. It was a good excuse to be near Alan, if nothing else. The closest they'd been since getting back to Fort Peck.

He could still hear the cars passing by on the street outside, and someone was having an argument in the next room, but Alan was _there_. Steady breath and warmth seeping into Billy's body from where their knees touched.

"Tired?" Alan's voice was a mere whisper, barely penetrating the sudden haze. He felt safe, like he could simply close his eyes and sleep — genuinely _sleep_ , no dreams.

Fingers brushed the back of his neck, guiding him downwards. He went willingly, letting out a grunt of gratitude as Alan's arm wrapped around his back, holding him close. Alan's shoulder was solid and hard beneath his cheek, but it was still the most comfortable he'd been in weeks.

\----

Someone was running their hand through his hair, slow and gentle. It was a really nice way to wake up, and Billy opened his eyes with some regret. He had to have been asleep for several hours, because sunlight was now peeking through the blinds. Somewhere during that time he had moved from resting against Alan's shoulder, to lying on his lap.

Billy carefully twisted around, needing to truly _see_ it to believe it.

Alan met his eyes with a soft smile.

"You stayed," Billy said.

"Yeah."

Maybe it was the tenderness he could swear he saw in Alan's face, or maybe still being half asleep made him foolhardy, but Billy decided to take the bull by the horns. "Let me stay at the dig site again. I'll pull my weight, I swear."

A look of surprise crossed Alan's features, followed by a confused frown.

"Please," Billy went on, forcing himself to sit up so he could better meet Alan's gaze. "I know someone else has taken my place in the trailer, that's fine, I can sleep anywhere, as long as it's..." he trailed off, realizing that saying 'as long as it's near you' was probably not the brightest idea.

"Hey, hey," Alan said, shaking his head. "I think you got it all wrong. Me too, maybe."

"Huh?"

"I got you this room because I thought you wanted some space."

"What?"

Alan grimaced. "When I got back from Isla Nublar, I needed to put distance between me and... work. Dinosaurs. I had to unwind before I could get back in the saddle, so to speak. I figured it was the same for you."

"No," Billy mumbled. There was something akin to hope in the center of his chest, small but painfully bright. "I want to come back, fulltime, if you'll have me."

"Billy, listen. Nobody is in the trailer with me. Nobody ever will be, unless you come back. Hell, your stuff is sitting right there on your bunk, just waiting for you."

Head reeling, all Billy could do was ask, "My stuff?" He hadn't had a lot to begin with, just some clothes and books, and Alan had packed all of that for him.

"Your bag. Good ol' lucky strap."

"You still have that?"

"Of course," Alan said. "You thought I didn't?"

"Well, yeah... I mean, I know you gave the eggs back. There was no reason to hold on to it after that."

Alan raised an eyebrow. "It's your lucky bag, Billy. I wouldn't just toss it away like that."

"Kinda figured you would." Billy shrugged. "After what I did and all. Besides, at that point you thought I was dead — even less of a reason to keep carrying it."

Alan was quiet for a long time. Finally, he reached out to grip Billy's hand, almost painfully hard. "Yeah, I did think you were dead. And that damn bag was the only thing I had left of you. I wouldn't have let go of it no matter what, Billy."

He almost looked like he was about to cry. For Billy, it was the last straw. He leaned forward to kiss Alan, but chickened out halfway there so it ended up being just an awkward and brief press of lips, utterly chaste. He pulled back, heart thundering in his chest.

"What was that for?" Alan said, voice measured. He was probably two seconds away from exploding.

"Sorry, I just — I just wanted to thank you."

"Is that all it was? A simple thanks?"

"Look, forget it, okay? I shouldn't have-"

"Billy," Alan cut in, "this is important. Was that all it meant?"

"...No."

Alan reached out, gripping Billy's shirt to pull him in closer. He pressed their lips together again, tongue trailing Billy's bottom lip as if asking for permission.

Stunned, Billy disconnected his brain and simply let his body react. He opened his mouth, and Alan let out an almost _pained_ sound as he deepened the kiss.

It was something he'd wanted for a very, very long time. Probably since the first time he'd ever laid eyes on Alan Grant, though the realization hadn't hit until later, when he'd already been head over heels in love.

He had dreamed and hoped, but after Isla Sorna he'd been convinced that any chance he'd had — _if_ he'd ever had one — was long gone. Now, with Alan's arms encircling his waist and hauling him in even closer, it was quickly becoming evident that he'd been wrong.

Billy couldn't be happier.

They broke apart after a while, both panting. Alan tilted his head forward, resting their foreheads together. "Haven't been able to sleep without you," he murmured.

Billy squeezed his hand. "Then let's go back," he said. "Let's go home."

He got another heated kiss in response, and when Alan pulled back he echoed Billy's words. "Home," he said, voice a mere croak. It was one of the most beautiful sounds Billy had ever heard.


End file.
